


just let me know when you're outside

by kwanureeves (outomaatti)



Series: could you come by? [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Established Relationship, M/M, Riding, Slice of Life, Touching, contrary to canon seungkwan can actually cook in this lol, more married couple-esque domesticity, they're just goofy and gross and loving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outomaatti/pseuds/kwanureeves
Summary: Seungkwan giggles at him. “I can’t wait for you to have a shitty day at work again so I can return the favor,” he says.Seungkwan follows through on his promise.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Series: could you come by? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014705
Comments: 14
Kudos: 109





	just let me know when you're outside

**Author's Note:**

> after finishing the previous fic, I couldn't help but write seungkwan getting his rightful turn to pamper vernon. once again there’s lots of little touches and gentle bickering and knowing all of each other’s quirks inside out, all of which were super super fun to write. hope you enjoy this one as much as the first one ♡
> 
> (and, yes, I’m a total sucker for vernon’s home;run mv black hair, so there was really no excuse for me to skip writing him getting a dye job hehe)
> 
> title is once again from 'nights' by frank ocean.

The sound of the front door clicking shut is paired with an audible exhale escaping Seungkwan’s mouth, a blissful acknowledgement of having powered through yet another workday without any substantial nervous breakdowns. Hansol’s likely still at work, probably reachable as per usual, but Seungkwan decides against bothering him right now. Maybe later.

He’s just about done shrugging off his jacket and setting his keys down onto the shoe drawer when his phone jingles with the sound of an incoming text message. Seungkwan smiles when he sees the sender’s name pop up on the lock screen. Speak of the devil with the gorgeous blonde hair and the annoyingly cute grin.

**hansol_vc  
**boo

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Yes dear

 **hansol_vc  
**you workin tonight?

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Free as a bird

 **hansol_vc  
**can i come over

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Of course  
How was work?

 **hansol_vc  
**im still here  
kinda ugh

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Haven’t I got just the thing for you  
Come after

 **hansol_vc  
**cant wait  
i have the hair appt today  
after work

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Text me when you’re done  
Don’t forget pics!

 **hansol_vc  
**yea  
should i pick up food   
on the way home

Seungkwan’s heart picks up a little at Hansol’s choice of _home_ about Seungkwan’s own apartment.

**Boo Seungkwan  
**Hmm  
Actually  
No need  
I’ll whip up something nice

 **hansol_vc  
**sounds good

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Anything in particular you’d like?

 **hansol_vc  
**uhh  
can u do japchae

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Let me check  
You’re in luck  
I have some of the noodles left

 **hansol_vc  
**sweet  
dont burn down the place

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**🙄

Seungkwan gets right into it. He washes his hands in the kitchen sink before gathering his cutting board and utensils onto the tiny countertop by the sink. He scans through his refrigerator for any leftover vegetables to use in the japchae, and conveniently enough, there’s a bell pepper and some spring onions from a previous kimchi making session with Seokmin a little while ago. Seungkwan also discovers a long-forgotten, slightly softened carrot at the back of the fridge, but he tosses it onto the cutting board alongside the other vegetables anyway. 

Hansol’s ’leaving no food unfinished’ policy has recently begun to extend to neglected refrigerator contents as well; despite lacking cooking skills himself, he’s diligently taught Seungkwan with little tips and tricks he’s come across online. Whether it’s unlearning throwing out garlic that’s started growing sprouts, or chopping up bruised and seemingly hopeless-looking apples into an unexpected side ingredient for kimchi, Seungkwan always marvels at Hansol’s quiet resourcefulness, inspiring him to do better as well.

What Seungkwan’s missing now are mushrooms, spinach, onions, and garlic. He throws on a coat and does a quick run at the nearby convenience store, avoiding the temptation of picking up a chocolate bar from the new arrivals shelf. The crisp late autumn air tickles his nose as he treads back home.

Seungkwan’s not a multitasking wizard by definition, but he decides to try his luck in boiling the noodles while frying up the rest of the ingredients. While the water warms up in the pot, Seungkwan pours some oil onto the saucepan and grates his garlic cloves straight on top to let the oil soak up the flavor. He then chops up the vegetables and slides them off the cutting board into the pan, enjoying the sizzling sound of the veggies coming into contact with hot oil.

When the noodles are done, Seungkwan cuts them up with scissors before loading them into the pan. Upon pouring the soy sauce and sesame oil into the mixture, the unmistakable scent of japchae begins to fill the kitchen space, and Seungkwan lets out a contented sigh. He turns off the stove and moves to make himself a cup of coffee while he waits for Hansol to message him.

* * *

Next to his coffee cup, Seungkwan’s phone chimes. Glancing over and seeing that it’s a text from Hansol, Seungkwan reaches forward to grab the phone, unlocking it.

**hansol_vc  
**done with the hair

**Boo Seungkwan  
**Did you dye the roots?

 **hansol_vc  
**sort of  
its all black now

What. _What_.

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**???????

 **hansol_vc  
**spur of the moment

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**You’re pranking me  
Pranking your boyfriend should be illegal  
Pic or I won’t believe you

 **hansol_vc  
**youll see when i get homw  
eta 30min

 **Boo Seungkwan  
**Ugh  
I’m suing  
This is torture

 **hansol_vc  
**:)

What has he _done_. He was supposed to dye his roots to match the blonde he was currently sporting, but to fully dye it black and with zero warning, Seungkwan doesn’t really have a game plan for how he’s going to process all of this.

* * *

Not too long after, there’s a familiar rhythm of a knock on the door. Seungkwan fumbles with the doorknob a little, and starts talking before he even opens the door to Hansol fully.

“Look,” his tone is chiding as he creaks the door open, ”I love you, and I support you and your decisions, and to be honest you do look good in pretty much everything, but you can’t just go around bleaching your hair into oblivion and then just dyeing it black all over aga— o-oh.”

Seungkwan looks up, and just like that, drops to his knees with a thud.

”Whoa, careful,” Hansol exclaims, his tone a weird mix of confusion, concern and amusement. ”You’re going to ruin your knees like that.” He steps into Seungkwan’s apartment, closing the door behind him. 

”It’s for a good cause,” says Seungkwan, ignoring the dull ache creeping along his kneecaps from the impact. “Good call on not sending me any pictures. I might’ve just had a heart attack on the spot,” he continues, staring up at Hansol from the floor.

Hansol shakes his head, reaching down to grab Seungkwan by the upper arms and pulling him back to his feet. “Don’t say things like that.”

The familiar blonde of Hansol’s hair is gone. It’s jet black now, looking shiny and silky soft; probably after some deep conditioning treatment that would otherwise be ridiculously overpriced if bought separately, Seungkwan figures. Curled strands frame Hansol’s face as he pushes his bangs off his forehead, though they still stubbornly fall into his eyes like always. Seungkwan also notes that the hair color really enhances the sharpness of Hansol’s features.

“Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan hears a muffled call of his name in the distance, but chooses to shrug it off, continuing to trail his eyes over the strong line of Hansol’s eyebrows, the brown color of his eyes appearing an almost caramel-like shade in contrast with his black hair. Fuck, he’s so attractive.

“Babe.”

A hand appears in Seungkwan's field of vision, and then there are fingers gently pinching his nose, returning him back to Earth.

“Are you okay?” Hansol asks, looking visibly concerned.

“No,” Seungkwan says bluntly. “I think I’m suffering from my-boyfriend’s-too-hot-for-his-own-good syndrome.”

Hansol huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes a little, but his lips are curved in a sheepish smile. “You like it?” He asks, running a hand through his hair and combing it off his forehead once more.

“So much.” Seungkwan strokes his hands over Hansol’s hair. “Like I said before, you look good in any color.” He moves down to cradle his face affectionately before grabbing both of Hansol’s hands in his. “Now, let’s go. I’m still finishing up, but the food’s almost ready.”

”Let me take my shoes off first,” Hansol interrupts, laughing as Seungkwan pouts while releasing Hansol’s hands so he can bend down and remove his sneakers.

“Can’t wait to pamper you,” Seungkwan says as he reaches out again, smiling as he holds Hansol’s hands again and steps backwards, careful not to trip over his own feet as he leads them both into the kitchen.

Once there, Hansol mimics Seungkwan’s reaction at the sight of the japchae in the pan and sinks to his knees—albeit a little more carefully than Seungkwan did a few moments ago. Seungkwan cracks up at that, ducking down and wrapping his arms around Hansol’s shoulders as they both giggle.

As Hansol rises back upright, Seungkwan uses a spoon to scoop out a piece of bell pepper and a few noodles from the pan and feeds them to Hansol, who lets out a, “ _mmm,_ ” of approval accompanied by a nod as he chews.

”Good?” Seungkwan inquires, a smile creeping up his face.

Hansol swallows before mumbling, ”Better than good.”

”I’m actually really proud of myself. I even saved the sadder-looking veggies in the fridge.”

Hansol makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat. ”I’m proud of you too,” he concludes, wrapping his arms around Seungkwan’s middle, his chin hooking on Seungkwan’s shoulder.

”Someone’s exceptionally cuddly today,” Seungkwan notes upon finding a suitable enough adjective; ’clingy’ sounded a bit harsh in his brain, and he doesn’t want to come off as though he doesn’t savor every second of Hansol on the days when he basically turns into a koala version of himself.

”Weirdly enough, a part of my brain was almost happy I had such a shit day,” Hansol mumbles into Seungkwan’s shoulder, his words getting slightly muffled by Seungkwan’s sweater.

”And why is that?” Seungkwan questions, his eyebrows raised, craning his head a bit towards Hansol to get a better view of his face.

”’Cause I knew you’d be here when I came back,” Hansol replies, looking down at Seungkwan through his eyelashes, and Seungkwan’s heart speeds up.

Seungkwan closes his eyes. ”You say these things without hesitation, yet you call _me_ a sap,” he tuts gently while internally collecting himself just so that he doesn’t accidentally turn into a puddle in Hansol’s arms. 

“You love it, though,” Hansol points out.

“I do,” Seungkwan sighs dreamily. “Now help me set the table.”

Hansol pecks Seungkwan’s cheek before pulling away to rummage through Seungkwan’s dish cabinet to take out a pair of plates and chopsticks, setting them onto the dining table. Seungkwan strides over to the table bearing the japchae pan in his hands, and Hansol holds out one plate, then the other, while Seungkwan scoops a heaping mound of noodles onto each of the plates and sets the pan onto the table.

“Alright. Talk to me,” Seungkwan says as he plops down into one of the chairs. He scoops up some of the noodles with his chopsticks to help release excess steam, all while knowing full well that he’s going to end up burning his mouth anyway.

”Nothing serious,” Hansol mumbles around a mouthful.

“We’ve been together for almost a year and a half,” Seungkwan says pointedly. “Meaning, I know you well enough to recognize that it’s not,” he makes the quotation mark gesture with his fingers, “' _nothing serious._ '"

Hansol sighs, leaning back in his chair. ”It’s like, I just felt— or _have been_ feeling kind of uninspired, I guess? Like my brain’s all fogged up or something.”

“Ah,” Seungkwan says softly, his brow slightly furrowed. “Are there any big deadlines coming up?”

“Yeah. I think that’s what’s mainly fucking me up at the moment.”

Seungkwan studies Hansol’s face as he talks. The late afternoon light peeks through the blinds, painting slopes of gold over Hansol’s skin and hair. He works so hard, and demands so much of himself, yet sometimes refuses to admit to himself that he could really use (and deserve) a break once in a while.

”Remember not to stretch yourself too thin,” Seungkwan reminds, gentle yet matter-of-fact. “You know creative work requires just as much rest as physical work does, if not even more sometimes.”

”I know,” Hansol replies with a sigh. “Easier said than done, though.”

“You’re right about that,” Seungkwan admits, setting his chopsticks down for a moment. ”But remember that I’m here for you, and I care about your wellbeing. And should you want to talk, or for me to listen, or for me to give you space and just stay away from you for a bit, I can do whichever.”

”I’ll let you know if I need you to stay away, but I don’t think I’ll want that,” Hansol chuckles. ”Thank you,” he says, reaching out with his free hand to touch Seungkwan’s arm, and Seungkwan smiles fondly.

Seungkwan recalls it taking them a while to learn the subtle nuances of each other’s communication styles, but it has made everyday life so much easier. Seungkwan aims to gently coax Hansol to open up when he’s upset and his emotions get slightly clouded over. Conversely, Hansol grounds Seungkwan when he gets a bit too visibly irritated and at risk of overheating before getting to the rationalization stage of any problem.

Halfway into their conversation, however, Seungkwan notices himself zoning out a little. Which isn’t even that typical for him to do. Seungkwan’s a good listener, he really is, it’s just that it’s really hard to listen to his boyfriend talk when he’s looking as unlawfully good as he does right now. 

What’s even harder for Seungkwan at the moment, though, is _not_ picturing Hansol’s black curls dampened with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he hovers over Seungkwan, fucking into him like his life depends on it. He snaps himself out of it internally, trying his best to focus on Hansol’s words.

After they finish dinner, Hansol helps Seungkwan clear the table while he starts on the dishwashing. Seungkwan throws him a grateful smile. It’s comforting, somehow; how they’re fully aware of each other’s actions and preferences, following similar patterns in their respective communication styles. No missed or misinterpreted signals, no unnecessary skirting around each other. It makes Seungkwan feel fully at ease whenever he’s with Hansol. 

”So.” Seungkwan starts as he sets the last batch of dishes away and does a one-eighty to face Hansol. ”What’s our plan for tonight?” He leans back with his hands against the edge of the sink, waiting.

”Hmm. Let me think,” Hansol replies, tilting his head to the side as if deep in thought. ”How about I kiss you first, and we can decide from there.”

Seungkwan feigns a pondering expression, his lips pursed. ”I can work with that.”

Hansol grins as he takes a step closer, his hands finding Seungkwan’s waist just above where his sweater is lazily tucked into his jeans. Seungkwan rests his hands on Hansol’s arms, keeping him close. Hansol leans in, and Seungkwan meets him at the last few centimeters, pressing his mouth against Hansol’s. The first press of their lips is soft, tentative, almost shy. By the second one, Seungkwan’s already willingly losing his mind with how good it feels. Fitting a hand against Hansol’s jaw, Seungkwan tips his head a little to the side to help deepen their kiss, languidly opening his mouth for Hansol’s tongue.

Hansol really excels at this (seemingly) unintentional teasing thing where he gets touchy and stares at Seungkwan with heavy eyelids, but never goes all the way even when Seungkwan’s placed bets on him to do so. By the time they kiss, it’s like crossing a long-awaited finish line. And, well, it really doesn’t take long for Seungkwan to get riled up when that happens. Hansol is a good kisser, too, indulging Seungkwan in generous usage of tongue, just the way he likes it. All of it combined is what makes kissing Hansol one of Seungkwan's favorite things in the world.

Seungkwan makes a soft, delighted noise in the back of his throat as Hansol nips at his lower lip and soothingly licks over it with his tongue afterwards. Seungkwan snakes his hands round to cling to the back of Hansol’s hoodie, pulling Hansol flush against his body. One of Hansol’s hands inches down to rest at Seungkwan’s hip, while the other braces him against the countertop, caging Seungkwan in, and Seungkwan makes a low, humming sound against Hansol’s lips, feeling hot all over.

All of a sudden, Seungkwan feels a pair of hands holding him by his waist, and then he’s being hitched up onto the kitchen counter by Hansol like it’s nothing. Hansol is a lot stronger than he appears, and being manhandled by his boyfriend always sends a rush down Seungkwan’s spine. Seungkwan helps, using his arms as leverage and scooting back on the countertop. There’s not much room, but just enough, and Seungkwan wiggles a little to find a sufficiently comfortable position on the hard surface.

He spreads his thighs reflexively to allow Hansol into his space, and paws impatiently at Hansol’s jaw, reeling him in to kiss him open-mouthed and heavy. Seungkwan muffles a soft noise into their kiss as Hansol smooths his hands along the top of Seungkwan’s legs, fingers trailing down his inner thighs, the touch searing Seungkwan’s skin through the layer of denim and making him shiver, heat stirring at the bottom of his stomach.

Hansol presses close against Seungkwan’s front, hands sliding up to grip around Seungkwan’s waist. Seungkwan feels something bubble up his throat and turns away quickly, muffling a tiny burp into his hands. His face flushes, and he hides in his hands, letting out a miserable whine when Hansol bursts into laughter.

“Don’t laugh,” Seungkwan cries, his face hot with embarrassment, his voice sounding something between a laugh and a sob. “I ate too much, I can’t help it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hansol’s words meld into his chuckles as he gently pries Seungkwan’s hands from his face.

“Ugh, I’m so embarrassed. My breath probably smells horrible now, too,” Seungkwan complains, smacking his lips in an attempt to assess the severity of the situation. ”S-stop laughing at me,” he whimpers when Hansol simply continues to cackle at him.

Hansol’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and he leans his forehead against Seungkwan’s shoulder as he laughs, loud and full-bodied. As always, it’s contagious, and Seungkwan soon finds himself cracking up, too. He wraps his hands around Hansol’s back as they share yet another one of their many mid-makeout giggle fits.

Pulling away, Hansol wipes at his eyes, his mouth still curved in that cute gummy grin of his. ”Knowing how much garlic you put into the food, I’d be surprised if we both didn’t stink at least a little by now.”

”Stinky,” Seungkwan repeats in a baby voice, pouting a little. ”Have you ever thought about how gross we are sometimes?” He asks, arms looping around Hansol’s neck.

”Sometimes, yeah,” Hansol admits. ”Wouldn’t have it any other way, though.”

Seungkwan doesn’t get a chance for a snide remark before Hansol’s kissing him again, insistently pressing his mouth against the curve of Seungkwan’s top lip. Seungkwan turns into the kiss and wraps his legs around Hansol’s waist, using his position as leverage for pressing his body forward and grinding against Hansol, relishing in the long awaited friction, his cock growing hard in his jeans. 

Hansol slides his hands into Seungkwan’s back pockets, squeezing. ”Kinda wish you were wearing sweatpants instead,” he murmurs quietly against Seungkwan’s lips.

Seungkwan pulls away a little, raising an eyebrow. ”Judging by how we’re doing right now, my hunch is that I’ll be wearing nothing by the end of this night, anyway.”

”Good point,” Hansol chuckles. “Can’t wait.”

The jeans really turned out to be a mood killer at this point, Seungkwan admits, as Hansol shifts to cup his hand against the outline of his dick. Seungkwan groans, squirming a little as he tightens the hold of his legs around Hansol’s waist to arch up into his hand. Hansol gives it to him, rubbing his palm in slow circles as Seungkwan groans helplessly, resting his forehead against Hansol’s.

”Maybe… you could ride me?” Hansol pulls back to cast a glance at Seungkwan, his eyes half-lidded, appearing almost demure.

“Ah,” Seungkwan sighs, half in surprise by Hansol’s suggestion and half in pleasure as Hansol leans down to press a trail of kisses against his neck. “I don’t know, I feel a bit... pudgy after all that food,” he groans, raising a hand to his stomach, his face painted with a disappointed grimace.

“You’re no such thing,” Hansol interjects, lifting his head to meet Seungkwan’s eyes. His brow is furrowed, but his tone is gentle. He closes his hand over Seungkwan’s that’s still against his stomach, threading their fingers together. He then brings Seungkwan’s hand to his lips and kisses the knuckles, and Seungkwan’s stomach flutters. 

“It’s okay, though. We can do something else if you don’t feel like it,” Hansol continues, their fingers still intertwined. ”I just—” he ducks his head a little. ”Wanna make you feel good,” he murmurs.

Seungkwan thanks the stars he’s sitting up; if he were standing, his knees would’ve gone all wobbly right about now.

”You’re tired, you’ve had a bad day at work,” Seungkwan recaps calmly, counting one by one with his fingers for emphasis, “and you're still thinking about how to make me feel good?”

Hansol shrugs. ”Knowing you feel good makes me feel good too. Nothing to it, really.”

”You’re a dream,” Seungkwan muses, his grin wide as he threads his fingers into Hansol’s hair. Hansol leans forward to kiss said grin off him.

It’s not like Seungkwan considers himself ugly, and it’s not like he hasn’t ridden Hansol hundreds of times to date, but he sometimes feels a little bit self-conscious when on display, especially on the days when he’s feeling not so great about himself. He’s grateful for Hansol, though, for listening to him and understanding.

“Okay,” he says after gathering himself for a moment, pulling back just enough to get a view of Hansol’s face. “I haven’t sat on your dick in a while. Might as well be fun for what I remember. I think I can prioritize that over feeling a little bloated.”

Hansol sniffles a laugh. “I’ll make sure of it. Also, there’s nothing wrong with you,” he reminds sternly. 

He steals one more kiss before gripping the backs of Seungkwan’s thighs, muttering a quiet, “Hold onto me,” before hoisting Seungkwan up and off the kitchen counter. Seungkwan giggles and twists in his arms as Hansol carries him out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. 

When Hansol’s knees hit the edge of Seungkwan’s bed, Seungkwan unlatches himself and collapses backwards onto the mattress, Hansol joining him shortly thereafter. Hansol sits up, crossing his arms in front of himself and tugging his hoodie over his head and off, discarding it on the floor beside the bed. He does the same to the T-shirt he’d been wearing underneath the hoodie. He helps Seungkwan take off his sweater and squirm out of his jeans that are, as Hansol describes them, a bitch to remove. 

After some wrangling, however, they’re both successfully naked, mirroring each other’s victorious grins. Hansol scoots back on the bed, making himself comfortable with his back against the pillows by the headboard, and Seungkwan takes this as an invitation to climb into his lap. Seungkwan’s landing is a tad uncoordinated, and he plants himself onto Hansol’s hips. The impact forces an, _”oof,”_ and a breathless giggle out of Hansol, and Seungkwan truly loves him.

“Hi,” Seungkwan whispers after he’s gotten comfortable with his thighs on either side of Hansol’s hips, a sparkle in his eyes as he peers down to meet Hansol’s gaze.

“Hi,” Hansol echoes, smoothing his hands along Seungkwan’s sides, settling at his hips. “I like you here," he murmurs.

“I kind of like me here, too, actually," Seungkwan replies, exhaling a breathy laugh.

And then Hansol’s mouth is on his again, lips parting against Seungkwan’s. Seungkwan’s hands trace the broad stretch of Hansol’s shoulders, trailing lightly along the dips of his collarbones, and Seungkwan grins when he feels Hansol shudder at the contact. With all layers of clothing gone, Seungkwan feels dizzyingly good just grinding down against Hansol, skin against searing skin. 

Hansol’s hand sneaks down to wrap around Seungkwan’s dick, stroking him slowly from base to tip. It makes Seungkwan stumble on the rhythm of their kiss, groan muffled by Hansol’s tongue. He ruts up into Hansol’s grip, mouth slack and chest heaving as Hansol moves down to kiss messily at his jaw. Hansol pulls back to spit against his palm before taking Seungkwan in his hand again, the slide increasing the pleasure tenfold.

”Lube, darling,” Seungkwan chides under his breath, ”is what I think you need.”

Hansol puffs out a breath, pulling his hand away. Seungkwan lifts himself off Hansol’s lap and clambers on all fours towards the edge of the bed to dig through his tiny bedside drawer, fishing out a lube bottle and a string of condoms and chucking them over his shoulder in Hansol’s general direction. 

With Seungkwan’s ass pretty much in his face, Hansol doesn’t hesitate for even a second before reaching forward and delivering a sharp slap to one of Seungkwan’s cheeks. Seungkwan stops in his tracks and shoots a glare over his shoulder at a grinning Hansol, all but ready to drop everything and choose violence.

”You little shit,” Seungkwan growls. ”You’re _this_ —” he makes an almost-pinching gesture with his pointer finger and thumb, ”this close to getting your dick-sitting license revoked.” 

”Forgive me, babe,” Hansol calls out, his words stumbling around huffs of laughter. 

Seungkwan sits back on his knees, crossing his arms, and tries his best to appear serious and not crack up, but the way his mouth is contorted tells otherwise.

”Wait,” Hansol backtracks. ”Literally speaking, shouldn’t _you_ be the one with the dick-sitting license in this case?”

”No, it’s— I—” Seungkwan starts, freezes, and flops down onto his side in defeat. Hansol laughs as he wails.

”C’mere.” Hansol pats the top of his thigh, coaxing Seungkwan to climb back up onto his lap. Seungkwan yields, clambering on top of him and letting Hansol kiss him silly. 

Seungkwan’s knees slip wider, and he rolls his hips down, moaning when Hansol shifts up to meet him. ”Touch me,” he orders shakily. 

Hansol doesn’t need to be asked twice: he uncaps the lube and pours a good dollop onto his hand and wedges it between them, pumping Seungkwan’s length in a slow, slick slide. Seungkwan moans quietly, hips bucking up into Hansol’s touch. Seungkwan ducks down, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the column of Hansol’s throat, before his focus reduces to simply gasping against Hansol’s shoulder whenever Hansol thumbs at his slit or twists his hand just right.

Hansol’s hand disappears for a moment, and Seungkwan’s almost ready to shout, but then he’s wrapping his fingers around both their cocks, taking his sweet time in building up a steady rhythm as Seungkwan squirms in his lap, burnt red bangs haphazardly sticking to his forehead, mouth slack as he pants for air.

”You’re so hot,” Hansol says, breathless.

”You’re just— ah, saying that to make me feel better,” Seungkwan rasps, his voice pitched a little high as he rocks his hips into Hansol’s hand.

”I _am_ trying to make you feel better,” Hansol replies, blinking owlishly up at Seungkwan. “And you’re also really hot.”

Seungkwan makes a pained grimace at him, but leans in to press a firm kiss against Hansol’s lips, enamored.

”Your face,” Hansol traces his finger along the arch of Seungkwan’s brow, the curve of his cheekbone, down the side of his jaw. Seungkwan’s grimace slowly melts off his face as he leans into the touch, closing his eyes. He feels Hansol’s finger skim over his cupid’s bow, along the swell of his bottom lip, and he presses a close-mouthed kiss against the pad of Hansol’s finger.

”Your shoulders, your arms,” Hansol’s words guide the trail of his reverent touch along Seungkwan’s body. “Your hands,” his fingers wrap around Seungkwan’s wrist and guide it toward his lips, a series of fleeting kisses pressing to Seungkwan’s palm, to the inside of his wrist.

“Hansollie,” Seungkwan whines, his heart swelling.

”Your back,” Hansol goes on, unbothered, smoothing his fingers along the planes of Seungkwan’s back, pressing against the muscles there. 

Seungkwan scrunches his eyes shut. ”God, t-this is too much, I think I’m going to die.”

As much as Seungkwan loves Hansol, he acknowledges that Hansol’s not exactly the prime example of a person giving out compliments or words of affirmation easily. Between the two, that characteristic has long ago belonged to Seungkwan, and while he enjoys getting praised, he quickly learned to simply ask for it if Hansol doesn’t say anything first. On the other hand, Seungkwan knows that Hansol doesn’t waste his words, verbally acknowledging something only if his feelings truly match his expression. 

Which is exactly why he’s feeling so overwhelmed right now, with Hansol holding him in his arms, touching him so lovingly, fueled by words uttered with equal emotion, completely unprompted.

”Your—” his hands come round to Seungkwan’s front, splaying over his chest. He squeezes at Seungkwan’s chest, fingers pressing into the soft skin, thumbing at his nipples as Seungkwan sighs out a shaking breath. “Your tits,” Hansol says with a little laugh.

Taken aback, Seungkwan lets out a, “ _pfft,_ ” sound and bursts into a giggle, swatting lightly at Hansol’s arm. “I can’t believe you just called my chest ‘tits’.”

“Can’t think of a better word,” Hansol replies, and a smile can be clearly heard in his voice. “Your legs,” he continues, touching just above Seungkwan’s knee, moving up and smoothing over the curve of Seungkwan’s thighs.

”Your ass, though,” Hansol says, a devilish grin plastered to his face as he trails both hands to Seungkwan’s lower back, groping behind him and smacking both hands against his ass in sync. ”Your ass is the best.”

”Why not all of me,” Seungkwan pouts, his tone more teasing rather than disappointed.

”All of you,” Hansol murmurs reassuringly, ”but especially your ass.” He kneads at the muscle, jiggling it shamelessly and grinning up at Seungkwan.

”Fair.”

”How the hell do you go from this,” Hansol runs his finger over the angle of Seungkwan’s jaw, ”to _this,”_ he drops his hand to squeeze at the swell of Seungkwan’s ass once more.

“You really are good at making me feel special for nothing, huh,” Seungkwan protests softly, looking down at Hansol with fond eyes.

“What do you mean ‘nothing,’” Hansol frowns, fitting a hand around Seungkwan’s cheek. “I love everything about you,” he says as he looks up at Seungkwan, his brows slightly knitted together in a disheartened expression he gives every time Seungkwan’s mind tries to eat away at his own self-confidence. 

“I love you too, so much,” Seungkwan says, taking Hansol’s hand and kissing the birthmark there, the one that kind of looks like a wonky heart, and Hansol’s features soften up a little. Seungkwan then presses forward to kiss Hansol with an urgency, trying his best to channel his emotions into the kiss, his heart so full.

“Now please fuck me before I start crying,” he chuckles against Hansol’s lips, and Hansol laughs endearingly.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs. ”Spread your legs a little.”

Seungkwan does, shuffling up into more of a kneeling position, tilting his hips back and spreading his thighs for better access. He knows it’s not an ideal position to be fingered in, but it’s doable, and he’s kind of too far gone at this point to care anyway (and he reckons Hansol is the same).

Hansol grabs at the bottle of lube beside them, and Seungkwan reaches out to take it in one hand as the other finds Hansol’s wrist, guiding his hand towards him and squirting a generous amount onto Hansol’s fingers in a nonchalant but sweet gesture. Hansol takes a moment to warm the lube up between his fingers, and splays his other hand over Seungkwan’s hip. Seungkwan anchors his hands on Hansol’s shoulders as Hansol rubs the first finger over his hole, then slides inside slowly and carefully. Seungkwan tips his head forward instantly at the contact, moaning low in his throat.

Hansol manages to build up a gentle, unhurried rhythm, matching Seungkwan's pleased little noises that crescendo until he’s gasping softly on nearly every stroke of Hansol's fingers, Seungkwan’s fingertips digging into the muscles of Hansol’s shoulder. Hansol pumps two, then three fingers inside him, keeping careful even when Seungkwan begins to rock back against his hand, trying to take his fingers deeper.

“I almost forgot ho— _ohh_ ,” Seungkwan starts just as Hansol brushes over his prostate, causing his words to get stuck in his throat, the only thing escaping his mouth being a choked moan, his lips shiny with spit. "Please," Seungkwan stutters, fingers scrambling across Hansol's body, his thighs shaking.

”Yeah,” Hansol breathes. He drags his fingers out as Seungkwan hisses, Hansol’s other hand splayed along Seungkwan’s waist for support.

“Let me,” Seungkwan says as Hansol feels around for the condoms on the sheets. He hands them to Seungkwan, who tears one packet open with his teeth and pours some more lube onto his hand and slicks up Hansol’s dick before rolling the condom on. Seungkwan gives it a few brief strokes, reveling in Hansol’s shaky sigh at the much needed relief. He looks exactly like Seungkwan had imagined him at the start of the evening, lower lip caught between his teeth and wisps of black hair falling into his face, and Seungkwan does his best to etch the image into his mind forever.

”You're, like, the hottest thing ever right now,” Seungkwan heaves a laugh, a tinge of desperation in his voice. "I swear I could just stare at you all night."

"You're most definitely _not_ going to stare at me all night. You're going to ride me."

Seungkwan snickers. “That much is true.” 

“Are your knees okay, by the way?” Hansol asks, his voice a little strained, referring to the little stunt Seungkwan decided to pull in his hallway a few hours ago.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Seungkwan reassures, raising up on his thighs. “ _Yes_ ,” he groans joyously as Hansol helps with aligning his cock with Seungkwan’s hips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of you sounding like you’ve won the lottery whenever I’m about to push inside,” Hansol says in between chuckles.

“I did, though,” Seungkwan replies confidently. “I am winning the lottery right now.” He truly is, and has since day one, ever since him and Hansol got together.

He wraps his slightly shaky fingers around Hansol’s cock, both of them gasping softly as he guides the head past his rim. Hansol soothes him through it, pressing the tiniest kisses over the three moles right beside Seungkwan’s ear, stroking gentle patterns over his hips. Seungkwan sinks down on his dick ever so slow, wincing a little at the initial sting of his hole stretching around Hansol’s girth. The dull ache begins to subside soon enough, replaced by Seungkwan feeling so full.

“You okay?” Hansol asks, voice a little strained, as Seungkwan bottoms out.

“Yeah, so good," Seungkwan breathes, rocking his hips back and forth in tiny movements to adjust. "You fill me so well,” he murmurs, lovingly fluffing Hansol’s sweaty hair with his fingers, carding them off his forehead. Hansol flashes him a toothy, triumphant smile, and Seungkwan is just so gone for him.

Seungkwan’s hands find their place atop Hansol’s shoulders again, bracing his weight as he lifts off Hansol’s lap just a little before dropping back down. Hansol rests his hands on Seungkwan’s waist, pulling him close so their bodies are pressed snug against each other while Seungkwan bounces on his cock, slowly but surely developing a nice rhythm. Hansol nuzzles into his face and presses a kiss against the corner of his parted lips, and Seungkwan tilts his head to meet his mouth with his own, insistently pushing his tongue into Hansol's mouth as if he's never known anything else.

“You can move if you wanna,” Seungkwan pants between their kisses, and Hansol nods before gripping Seungkwan’s hips and thrusting up tentatively, the movement small but pushing his cock that much deeper inside. A gasp escapes Seungkwan's lips as if all air is punched out of his lungs, his grip tightening on Hansol’s shoulders. ”Oh, fuck,” he groans, reflexively circling his hips to feel Hansol again so deep.

It takes them a moment to seek out the delicious sync of their thrusts, but it's so, so good once they finally manage to get there. Seungkwan eventually gets the hang of it, too, mixing and matching the roll and bounce of his hips in Hansol’s lap, changing up the angle at which Hansol’s dick moves in and out of him, highlighting the especially good ones with drawn-out moans and breathy, high-pitched whimpers. Hansol grinds into him carefully, alternating between holding Seungkwan's waist and his hips, tender and supportive, chasing Seungkwan’s praising noises.

Seungkwan’s not sure how long they’ve been going at it when he notices his thighs beginning to burn, and he tries to compensate by speeding up his pace, fucking himself on Hansol’s cock. His breaths come out hot and ragged with the added exertion, exhales melding with little noises here and there. His own cock slides against Hansol’s belly as he bounces up and down, the tip shining with precum, so hard it's almost painful. As if on cue, Hansol wraps his hand around Seungkwan’s length, palm swirling over the head of his dick before jerking him while Seungkwan works his hips, sweat trickling down his lower back.

“So good, Hansollie, f-feel so good,” Seungkwan stammers, lost between rocking his hips forward into Hansol’s hand and back against his cock. Seungkwan cants his hips forward a little, arching his back for another angle, and as Hansol’s dick grazes over his prostate, he feels like he’s been electrocuted.

”T-there, right there, please,” he cries out, his hole clenching around Hansol’s cock, abdominal muscles tensing up. It’s so much at the same time, and Seungkwan feels like his head is swimming from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, Seungkwan,” Hansol moans, snapping his hips up again in time with Seungkwan bearing down on his dick. He plants his hands on Seungkwan’s ass, spreading his cheeks a little, keeping a vice grip on them, and Seungkwan moans unabashedly.

“So pretty,” he hears Hansol whisper, and his stomach swoops. Hansol’s hand travels up the firm curve of Seungkwan’s waist, skimming over his nipple, fitting against his jaw as Hansol pulls him down to catch his mouth in a messy kiss. The way Hansol’s been touching and praising him all day has been driving Seungkwan absolutely insane in the best way possible, and coupled with how well Hansol’s fucking him right now, Seungkwan’s not sure how long he’s going to last.

It’s also in that moment where Seungkwan realizes he'd actually forgone feeling self-conscious over having so much fun (and being so turned on), and he gives himself a mental pat on the back while Hansol sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. He'd love to try and put on a bit of a show with this newfound morsel of courage, but he's getting close and figures Hansol is too, so he tucks that thought into his brain files for next time.

“Gonna come— ah, gonna come,” Seungkwan sobs against Hansol’s lips between kisses, his thighs trembling, cheeks and neck flushing hot. His hips fall out of pace as he bears down sloppily on Hansol’s lap, taking him as deep as he possibly can. Hansol’s hand reaches between them to close around Seungkwan’s cock, swiping his thumb over the head, tipping Seungkwan over the edge and working him through it.

Seungkwan’s mouth goes lax against Hansol’s and his entire body seizes up, and then he's coming all over their chests and Hansol’s hand, making a mess of both of them. He doesn’t let up, though, instead continuing to grind deep against Hansol, hole fluttering around his dick. Hansol lets out a low groan, his body shuddering as he comes as well, fingers digging into the meat of Seungkwan’s thigh.

They catch their breaths for a minute, foreheads resting against each other. Seungkwan eases himself off Hansol’s lap with an exhale, still sensitive, goosebumps sweeping across his skin. Hansol slides the condom off his softening length and ties it off, handing it to Seungkwan who drops it into the little trash can below his nightstand. 

Seungkwan flops down to lie beside Hansol, feeling warm and sated, save for the lingering burn in his thighs. “That was pretty fun, huh.” 

Hansol’s mouth curves into a smile as he turns to face Seungkwan. “Told you so.”

Seungkwan props his head on an elbow. "Also, I think you calling me pretty when we have sex is now my new favorite thing."

Hansol's smile grows wider. "I'll keep that in mind."

“Ugh, my thighs feel like I’ve been squatting three times my weight,” Seungkwan huffs. It was totally worth it, but he's still dreading how sore he's going to feel tomorrow, being on his feet for hours on end at work.

“I can understand that.” Hansol reaches out to touch Seungkwan’s thigh, rubbing soothingly up and down along the curve of it.

“You’re up next, big boy,” Seungkwan says like it's the law, poking at Hansol's chest. “I want you to ride me next time."

Hansol hums affirmatively. “Noted.”

“Also, we need to shower.”

“Yeah, we do,” Hansol says, but makes no move to get up. At least not before Seungkwan decides to lunge forward and tickle-fight him until he exiles into the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're reading this, you're the best. come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kwanureeves)!


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